I thought about kissing this girl the first night I saw her. What it might be like: her taste, her scent, her soft warmth.
I knew that night, even through the smoke and spotlights, that she would be special.
That kissing her would shake my foundations.
But how could I have known, jerking my c**k in the showers after the fight, that she'd be like this? Sweet and cautious, unsure in her movements in a way that makes my chest clench and my balls ache?
Kat Valentine may be filled with fire. May be braver than most boxers I know.
But when I duck my head and kiss her... suddenly, she's fragile. Vulnerable and raw, her arms winding around my waist as I press her flush against the door frame.
"We can stop any time." I grind out the words against her mouth, because I hate the thought of it, b
